Bandana Boy
by Vaviacya
Summary: HumanAU: Antonio's POV: It was dark, it was raining. He was scared, hungry, and alone. He just needed a glimmer of hope.


_Well, damn._

_Who knows where this came from. Well, okay, actually I know why. In my drawing class, I'm now known as bandana girl, but what I wear... isn't a bandana... It's just a ribbon. Whatever. I need some way to keep my stupid hair out of my eyes, I guess._

_I have a poll! Go vote, please? :D_

_(By the way, guys, I love reviews, no matter how pointless they are ;w;)  
_

* * *

It was raining that night. That much I still remember.

Clouds were rolling in fast, and the sunlight was fading just as quickly. I can recall glancing to my left – and then my right, before scampering swiftly across the wet street.

I had nothing with me, but my clothes. An old shirt that was far too big for me was fading of its original brown color. I had rolled up the sleeves, and found myself almost constantly pushing them back up again. My pants, coming to my knees, with far too many shreds and rips, were held up by only a string I had found a couple of weeks ago.

I shoved my my dark hair from my eyes impatiently, tucking what I could underneath my dark red bandana. My hair felt greasy, so I wiped my hand on my pants. God knows how long it's been since I've had anything of a decent wash. I crouched down behind some barrels, and I watched as a few people walked down the street. They were talking loudly. I scowled at them. So happy, so carefree, so rich. I hated them.

They paid me a single glance before frowning at me disapprovingly, like I had a choice that I was huddling outside in the drenching, gloomy rain instead of snuggled up beside a flickering fireplace with toast and tea. My eyes narrowed at them, and they turned away, continuing their obnoxious, pointless chatter.

Then, I remembered why I was here in the first place. I perked my head up, and, standing slowly, I began walking close to the wall. I scanned the ground carefully for something – anything. My stomach clenched painfully, and it growled loudly. I muttered to myself in annoyance.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes of this. I found absolutely nothing. I swallowed hard, nervous. What if I didn't find something? What if I had to go through another night without-?

Ah hah. There.

I ran over to a nearby trash bin, and, standing on the tips of my feet, I snatched something from the top. I didn't know what it was, I didn't care. But it was food.

It seemed to be leftovers of a salad or sandwich... I couldn't tell. But after picking off the moldy parts, it tasted delicious. I ate all that was there in less than three gulps. Once it was gone, I instantly wanted more.

Standing up once more, I reached inside of the bin for something else. Preferably newer, but I didn't really care. Food was food, and it would keep me alive.

My fingers found something hard and moist. Frowning to myself, I retrieved it to find a core of an apple. It was badly discolored and bugs were crawling over it. I flinched, dropping the core as fast as I could.

Grumbling to myself, I tried again. This time, I reached my entire arm into the trash, biting my lip in concentration. Come on, come on, anything...

My hand touched something that felt like flimsy paper. With a blink, I yanked it up, and felt a thrill run through my body. It was a paper bag. Maybe there was food...?

I ripped it open to find... absolutely nothing.

I yelled aloud in anger and frustration. I had half my mind to dump everything out of the bin just to see what I could find, but I knew it was pointless. I would have to put everything all back, or I'd get in trouble.

"Oi, you, over there!"

I jumped noticeable, my head whipping around so fast I nearly lost my balance. I glared daggers at a man standing just just a few meters away from me.

"What do you want?" I muttered, acknowledging the man's European accent. Great. Another one.

"What do you think you're doing?" The blonde man asked me harshly, his eyes dark and cruel.

"The hell does it _look _like I'm doin'?" I scoffed. I was irritated, and I didn't have the patience for this. What the hell was he, anyway? British? Irish?

"You're just a dirty little beggar rat!" The man laughed out. "Well, then." He walked a few steps toward me, and I could tell just how young this guy actually was. His arms crossed over his chest, and he smirked. "There are quite a few things I could do with you."

"I don't have time for your stupid games." I kicked dirt up at him, and he backed off suddenly. He was wearing too fancy of a suit to bother to get it messy. "Leave me alone."

"I don't think _you're_ the one in charge here, you little prick."

I barely had time to think of a reply, before I was slapped across the face. A cold shudder ran up my spine. My eyes were wide in shock and disbelief.

"Rat." The man spat again. "You're lucky to be alive."

Snapping somewhat out of my daze, I nearly tripped, and sprinted off in the other direction. Tears pricked and welled up in my eyes as my feet stomped across the hard ground. The brick underneath my feet felt frozen with cold and rain.

I was panting, sweating, out of breath, when I finally slowed down into a stop. Tears were streaming down my face, and I gave a choked sob. Why was that man so mad at me? What was I doing wrong? I was only using what nobody needed anymore. It wasn't like _he_ was going to eat anything that I had found.

Kneeling down on the ground, I wrapped my arms around my aching stomach as I struggled to catch my breath.

Why did he hit me? Was I really that bad? What have I done?

I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe.

With a final gasp, my stomach heaved, and I threw up everything I had just eaten. I cried loudly, not caring who would hear me. I dragged my wrist across my mouth, my throat burning. I stumbled to my feet, using one hand to lean against the wall.

"Stop crying," I ordered myself, my voice low and raspy. "Stop it, now."

With my free hand, I pushed my bandana back up, as it had slipped down a couple of inches.

"Stop crying, stop crying, stop crying..."

I rubbed my eyes, swallowing with great difficulty. I didn't have time for this. I couldn't be let down by every person that didn't like me. I would go nowhere like that. I have to focus... I have to focus on what I'm going to do next.

"Just walk." I said aloud. "Keep walking."

So I did. I began walking forward, my eyes low. I didn't want to see how anyone else looked at me. I had enough of that for one night.

Lightening struck. I yelped, my head snapping up in the direction of the clashing noise. Oh, no... No... Not tonight. Oh, God, please not _tonight_...

Thunder roared in the distance. I stopped in my tracks, my knees shaking. Both of my hands clenched themselves into tight fists as I stared up at the sky with wide, petrified eyes. A drop of rain landed on my forehead. I ran my sleeve over it hastily.

This was _not_ good... I had to leave - _ now_. I took a step forward, and then another one, quickening my pace. Where was I going to go? I didn't know.

Another flash of lightening made me loose me trip. With a gasp, I automatically extended my arms in front of me, in any hopes to catch my fall. My left wrist bend back at an impossible angle, and the next thing I know, I feel the dagger-like ground against both of my knees and my cheek.

I immediately try to stand, but my entire body was trembling. I look down, and see that both of my knees are bleeding. My left wrist throbs. I raise my other hand to gingerly touch my cheek, and I wince. I can feel the scratches, but I don't think there's blood.

I don't get to my feet. Why would I? There's no point. Even if I were to stand again, I would just fall again. I look around, trying to figure out where I am. I don't recognize the street. I had been running blindly.

My dull eyes gaze toward the dark sky. Why do I even keep trying? It's been like this for months now. Nothing was going to change.

I don't see a single person down this street, nor the one across from it. Makes sense, I suppose. I didn't know what time it was, but it could have been midnight, for all I knew.

I close my eyes, feeling tears trickle down my cheeks. This was pathetic. _I_ was pathetic.

"Hey. You there."

My eyes didn't open. It was just another person that was about to make fun of me.

"Hey, kid. Bandana boy there. What are you doin'? It's cold out here, ya know?"

Bandana... what...?

I opened my eyes, looking up at a tall figure. He was frowning at me with dark green eyes, his wavy hair somewhat untidy. He was wearing a jacket, with dark jeans that were tucked under a pair of black boots.

"You can talk, right?" He asked me, and I blinked at his accent. Remembering that he had asked me a question, I nodded very slowly, unsure of how he would respond.

"What's your name?"

"My..." I licked my dry lips, my voice raspy. "My name?"

"Yeah." He crouched down next to me, and I instinctively backed away slightly. "Unless ya want me to call you bandana boy, I suggest you give me a better one." He smiled jokingly.

"I'm..." I took a breath, not understanding what this man was doing. "I-I'm Antonio."

"Spanish?" The young man asked me. I just nodded again.

"My name's João." The man told me.

"That's not Spanish." I said, without thinking. "That... That's..."

"Portuguese." João's smile broadened. "Good for you, you knew that."

I didn't reply. But now I knew why his accent sounded similar to mine.

"But close enough, am I right?" João laughed out. He stood back up, and for a split second, I was afraid he was going to leave me, just like that. But then, he offered my his hand. "You don't have anywhere to go, do you?"

I found myself shaking my head. I was in awe with this João. Why was he doing this?

I took his hand, and João helped me to my feet.

"How old are you, Antonio? Seven? Eight?" João asked me.

I scoffed at him. "I'm ten."

"My bad," João laughed. "You're kinda small for your age."

"No, I'm not." Was all I could thing of to say. João just chuckled, but didn't say anything else about it.

"Hm... Had a little run-in with the floor, did we?" João nodded to the wounds on my legs. "That's okay. We'll get ya patched up in no time."

João didn't let go of my hand. Instead, he began walking, and, really having no other choice, I followed him.

"Where- where are we going?" I asked him, looking up.

"To my place." João said, squeezing my hand slightly. Then he gave a small smile. "Are you cold? You look like you're shivering."

"I'm not." I said.

João stopped walking, and I thought that I had said something wrong. But all he did was remove his jacket, which he tucked around me. I opened my mouth to protest, but the soft fabric felt warm and comforting. I was silent as João buttoned it up to my chin. He rolled the long sleeve up a little shorter than to the base of my right hand, but I withdrew my left hand as he reached for it.

"Don't touch that." I muttered.

"Does it hurt?" João asked me, worriedly.

"I fell." I explained in short.

"Hmm... Okay, just let me see." João said quietly, and, guiding my hand toward him, he touched the center of my wrist with just two fingers. "Does that hurt?"

"No." I mumbled.

His finger's skimmed downward with the lightest pressure, almost reaching to my hand, and then- "Stop!" I yelled, pulling away.

"I'm sorry." João apologized quickly. "I'm very sorry. Did that hurt?"

"Y-yes." I hissed, my other hand clamped on my wrist, trying to ease the strain.

"It might just be sprained." João told me, his voice low. "Don't worry; it isn't broken."

Tears were in my eyes again. I wiped them away. João stood up, and, taking a light hold on my good hand, we began walking again.

"We'll get you all cleaned up, and you'll have a nice, hot meal. And then we'll take a look at those injuries. How does that sound?" João beamed at me.

I swallowed hard. Bath? Food? "R-really?"

"Of course." João replied. With a playfully hand running over my hair, and lightly over my bandana, he continued, "It's up to me to take care of you from now on, okay? If you ever need anything, I'll be here."

I... For me? For _me?_ This João person... he was going to... help me?

"You... are?"

I couldn't believe my own ears.

"Yes." João laughed. "I will. I promise."

His laugh... The way João laughed. It sounded so... cheerful. I had long forgotten how to laugh like that. I stared forward, my eyes stinging with the type of tears I've never cried before – happy ones. Maybe João would teach me how to laugh like that again. Maybe... Maybe he really_ was_ going to help me.

… Maybe life wouldn't be so hard, after all.


End file.
